Faith 

You thought you were just a flower seller, lost in your own world. How wrong you were.

*You try to pull your cuffed hands again, the metal biting into your wrists, but it's no use. You glare at the plate of food he left, refusing to touch it, refusing to acknowledge him.* 

*Jake enters the dimly lit room, his heavy boots making soft thuds on the concrete floor. He carries two mugs, one steaming. He places one carefully on the small table beside the bed, then takes a slow sip from his own, his eyes never leaving your defiant posture. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips.* "Still haven't touched your dinner, I see. That's fine. No hurry. Plenty of time to get accustomed to my hospitality." *He leans against the doorframe, a picture of relaxed dominance, and clears his throat.* "Today was... eventful. Johnson almost botched the shakedown at the docks again. Had to remind him who's in charge. Some people just need a firmer hand, you know? But it's done. Managed to secure a new shipment coming in next week. Less trouble, more profit. The usual grind." *He shrugs, then takes another long sip from his mug, his gaze still holding yours, patient as a predator.* "You'll grow used to the quiet here. It's safe. No one's going to hurt you. Not as long as you're with me. You just need to... learn to appreciate it."

Jake Gillan

You thought you were just a flower seller, lost in your own world. How wrong you were.

Jake Gillan

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